Nothing is Impossible for a Willing Heart
by Mystical Faeries
Summary: Alex and Addison are confused, and trying to find themselves and on they way they find each other. Pairing: AlexAddison, implied conventional couples UPDATED WITH CH7!
1. Keep it Loose, Keep it Tight

_So, this is my first Alex/Addison fic. I'm writing it due predominantly to denial that they're probably not going to progress any further on Grey's. Please review and let me know what you guys think. _

Disclaimer: needless to say, I do not own Alex or Addison. Damn.

**Chapter One: Keep it Loose, Keep it Tight**

She groaned, wishing to anyone who would hear that she hadn't left her surgery shoes at home.

Sorry. The hotel. But for the nurses whispering sordidly at the attending desk, Addison would have laughed out loud at the fact she was living in a hotel room. She didn't though, figuring there was reason enough to talk about her, let alone giving people the option of considering her psychopathic. Her nose was hurting, her glasses slowly but surely indenting two small grooves into it, the result of too many hours of charts. To top it off, she had her period and was feeling particularly emotional.

Her heels were, she finally concluded, too high, and far too inappropriate for a surgeon. She was amazed at how long it had taken her to ascertain this, but nonetheless, she found herself in Callie's locker, slipping a pair of comfortable (though undeniably hideous) plastic slip shoes. She'd been caught up in reverie most of the day, robotically going through charts, her mind defiantly concentrating itself only on one person, one kiss. A moment of idiocy, she thought dishonestly, refusing to replace the final word with one more synchronised with her thoughts.

"Riffling through lockers again?" someone said, pulling Addison from her thoughts. She swung around, her hand grasping her heart indicating her fright. She knew it was Alex, because she felt her stomach sink so far it may as well have fallen out.

"Karev, you scared me," she said by way of answer, slamming Callie's locker shut and trying to push past. He blocked her exit however, and used his body to guide her to the benches.

"Sit," he said forcefully, and Addison reluctantly complied. "We need to talk." He took her hand, as though to offer comfort, and she visibly flinched at the contact. He looked at her hand that sat, small and lily-white in his. It was, like every other part of her, perfection, or so Alex thought. His hand was warm; she was fairly certain hers was clammy, but the warmth stripped her of any doubts and any trepidation she was feeling. She looked up at him, trying to avoid his eyes, and nodded hurriedly, the way a young child did after being sternly told to behave.

"I don't get you, Addison," Alex said. "You're like a fricken one woman circus!"

"Start at the shallow end, why don't you, Karev?"

"Don't you 'Karev' me," he said. "You swan around in your fricken skirts and your fricken heels and you kiss me at Joe's. And then you say you're not ignoring me but every time I try to talk to you, you flit away calling 'charts' and now you're sneaking around, treading on glass, taking the longest route in an attempt to avoid me. I didn't think you were an avoider. But you are…an avoider," he added as an afterthought. "This isn't what we are, is it?"

We. Addison's stomach lurched. Now she was fairly sure it was sitting on her cleft. Alex just referred to them as _we._ Surely he meant professional, she thought. How could it be possibly be personal? Though she was fairly sure what she heard didn't pertain to professional conduct particularly. Shit, she thought. I'm overanalysing, and he's looking at me. He's waiting for an answer.

"Umm…" Oh yes. Brilliant. You certainly are a genius, Addison. Her mouth was gaping, like a fish gasping for oxygen. She was convinced that considering her a psychopath probably wasn't to far wrong.

"Fine," said Alex, hoisting himself off the bench. "Fricken fine. Whatever. Screw it." He waved his hand dismissively, and left the locker room, the door slamming behind him, leaving Addison sitting alone, her facial expression unchanged, her ears ringing with his voice – _his_ voice – and the resonating sound of the slamming door.

**A/N: So yes, this is a short chapter, but I have written ahead, and they do get longer. Its pretty much Addison, very confused about everything. It's set shortly after 'Great Expectations' by the way. Addison is confused about life and she's confused about Alex and it's just very obvious, because, well she's not wearing heels. She's willing to downplay her image so she can just feel somewhat secure. And then Alex called them 'we'. And that is even more confusing for her. Because she hasn't been a 'we' since Derek and she's finding herself wanting the 'we'. And generally, she's just a little reluctant to commit to anything because she flew halfway across the country and it was thrown in her face, and she invested in Alex and THAT was also thrown in her face. Anyway now I'm rambling…but yes, review and let me know if it's worthwhile to keep going!**


	2. Another Place to Fall

Chapter Two: Another place to fall

Addison was still in the locker room, lying on the bench, an old, unclaimed sweater propping her head up, when Callie came in.

"Way to hide, Addie," she said, her eyes immediately attaching to her shoes on the tall, usually graceful woman's feet. "Nice shoes."

"Oh yeah," said Addison. "I borrowed them. Heels, I've decided, suck."

"Whoa now," said Callie, abandoning her walk to the locker and sitting herself next to Addison. "What's the matter?" Addison knew she looked like crap. Her hair had been teased from lying on the sweater, she was wearing pink plastic shoes with a white blouse and brown pencil skirt and her eyes were puffy in a way only crying could manage.

"I'm hormonal," Addison said, trying to maintain her poise. "Very, very..." she was quiet for a moment, her eyes glazed over and focused on the locker directly in front of hers. "Very, very…confused," she relented, allowing herself to topple sideways, resting her head on Callie's shoulder. "I don't know what to do."

"About what?" asked Callie gently, offering her other arm for comfort.

"Everything," Addison said, as though it were enough. They both knew it wasn't, but Callie nodded anyway, not wanted to confuse her friend anymore. "It's late," she said instead. "Are you on-call?" Addison nodded. "Well, how about you go to your office, crash on the couch and get some sleep? Think things over?" She figured she could lie on a public bench and mull over her confusions and her seemingly meaningless life, or she could do it in seclusion. At least in seclusion she could change into sweatpants and play Solitaire on her notebook.

Her office was on the third floor, home to a selection of impressive textbooks and an empty photo frame from which she just removed a photo of her and Derek. Her degrees were framed as was customary in a doctor's office, but the only place she actually frequented was the bottom drawer of her filling cabinet, which held usually her surgery shoes, and always a pair of homely, worn sweatpants. She drew the blinds, the room immediately immersing her in a stark darkness, and stripped herself of her skirt, pulling on her pants and removing the pearly clasp from her red locks.

She'd barely been lying on the couch when she startled at a nervous knock on her door. Fortunately, there was a peephole. Unfortunately, she didn't use it, instead swinging the door open, expecting to see Callie.

"Karev," she said with a sigh, blocking the doorway so he couldn't enter. He eyed her pants and messy tresses of hair and she could see an inward shrug, as though it meant nothing that the usually immaculate Addison Forbes Montgomery looked nothing more than a bedridden witch.

"Can I come in?" he asked. She shrugged. "Are you going to subject me to another _fricken_ lecture?" she asked, tiredly, mocking his frequent use of the non-word.

"Will you listen?" he retorted, and reluctantly, she stepped aside shutting the door after he'd come in. He sat himself on one half of her couch, obviously indicating she should occupy the other half. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he said blandly, his tone indicating he was anything but. "For…umm…snapping at you. You're my superior. It was…wrong."

"Say it like you mean it," she said, rolling her eyes. "Fine. Go." She turned around and opened her filing cabinet, trying to look intently absorbed in work.

"Addison! What is this you're doing to me!?" She swung around, and he stared her piercingly in the eyes. "For Christs sake, you pull me from pillar to…post," he said, deliberately withholding the expected "fricken". "I just don't know what to expect. I need to know **what** the hell we are." He paused. She slowly walked over, and lowered herself into the couch next to Alex.

_We._ He said it again.

"You counted," he proclaimed. She looked quizzically at him. "How many times I've said 'we'. We. We. We. You and me. Now you're analysing what it means, aren't you?" She nodded.

"I kissed you. And I would like to do it again. _That_ is what it means." Alex got up, and ventured toward the door.

"Wait," she said. "Umm…your…" she stood up to hand him the chart he'd brought into the room with him. He took it, but Addison's grasp around it was surprisingly strong. Their hands met over the spiral bind and Addison inhaled sharply, scared to examine the gaze Alex was projecting on her. "It's okay," he said, and his voice contained more certainty than she could remember in a man's voice for an excruciatingly long time. He loosened her grip around the chart, and awkwardly tucked it under his arm. Then he touched her cheek, running two fingers across and down her cheekbone, memorising each dip and curve, concluding the gesture by tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He took her hand, and gripped it firmly, but gently at the same time and brought them up to his lips, kissing the tip of each finger gently, protectively.

"Ads," he whispered, so softly despite being alone together in her office. "Friends talk, okay? Friends call each other if they need one another. I'm your friend, if that's what you want." He let his lips linger on her fingertips for probably a second to long, before he exited her office, gently shutting the door. On one side Alex leant, exhaling slowly, the taste of Addison still dancing on his lips. He was content, he thought, to be her friend. Maybe what he felt for her could only consummate in an intimate friendship. He didn't care. The overwhelming desire to protect her from everything and everyone was as overpowering as her scent. It would be enough. It would have to be.

_**A/N: So…Addison/Callie friendship – I really LOVE this relationship. I haven't really delved into it so much because in an upcoming chapter there is definitely a relationship (friendship) that I'm excited to explore! But anyway, at the moment, Callie is Addison's person. Not necessarily by choice, but they are both in a similar boat at Seattle Grace, and naturally they'd gravitate together. But the point is, Callie is her friend, but she's not always THERE the way Alex is. Cause Alex? Is there. Now. And he's saying "We" again. So like Addison needs that. Or the finger kissing for that matter. But Alex, it has been ascertained in the show, is a physical person. Wrestling, sex, that's what Alex's good at. So it's not really surprising that he's trying to convey his feelings physically. It's more of a surprise how gentle and emotional he is though, because gentle, emotional Alex isn't really revealed save for babies and Jane Doe. Anyway I'm rambling, yet again, but the point is, Alex has more or less come to terms with where he is, emotionally. Addison's not quite there. So Alex has resolved to help her get there, whether or not it results in something more, he's happy just to be her friend because he's never really experienced emotion like this before.**_


	3. I Wish I had a Parchute

Chapter 3: I wish I had a parachute, cause I'm falling bad for you

Alex didn't think about women. It was a conscious decision he had made in college, deciding instead to think about sex. It was much easier to comprehend and even easier to attain. That defined him. Alex Karev, playboy, his high school friend Angela so generously captioned in their yearbook. Alex Karev, frat boy bitch, Meredith had more recently proclaimed. He walked around in his black wife beater; consciously aware that it left just enough to the imagination, and willing to verbally remind people of it, too.

He didn't think he'd ever been in love. In fact, he was almost positive he hadn't. He'd slept with _a lot_ of girls during college – he slyly thought he could probably surpass Meredith's quota of drunken one night stands – but he only remembered three girls by name. The names served their purpose, to fill the inaugural 'exes' conversation at the lunch table. Three. An excellent number, not too many and not too few. A believable number. Of the three, he'd been closest to Miriam. He'd _almost_ understood her, almost let his guard down entirely – but he hadn't, and she hadn't really cared, choosing to abandon him in Iowa, entering a world sans identity, relocating to the elusive New York City.

But Addison? Was different, he thought, striding purposefully down the hall to the elevators, his lips still tingling with the taste and feel of her delicate fingers. He didn't quite know what he felt for her, keeping it so deep within it wasn't quite accessible. He certainly didn't know what she felt for him, and he begrudged her for that. Alex was a confident guy, undeniably arrogant, but for once he felt he couldn't quite make it.

"Dr Karev?" the voice was urgent, and drew him from his thoughts. It was Olivia. "I know you're off, but Dr Montgomery isn't responding, and she's crashing."

"Who's crashing?" Alex said, running down the hall with Olivia, who expertly jammed her foot in the elevator to keep the door open, and pressed level 4, where the NICU was.

"Jodie Henderson," she replied, catching her breath. Alex nodded, pushing his way out the elevator upon its destination. "Page Dr. Montgomery again," he ordered, barging through the doors, knocking a nurse out the way and beginning pediatric compressions. "C'mon, Jodie," he whispered to the baby, who weighed barely 750grams.

They'd delivered Jodie, and her twin sister Stephanie three days earlier, at 25 weeks, the twins having experienced twin-to-twin transfusion in the womb, meaning the nutrients Jodie was receiving were being transfused into Stephanie, who was consequently double the size of her sister. Stephanie too had complications, but was at the moment, stable. Jodie was the baby who was truly struggling.

"Push one of Epi," he ordered desperately, maintaining compressions. "C'mon little one," he urged. "You can so do it." He stared at the screen anxiously, watching as the line indeterminably fell flat.

"Sinus rhythm present," a nurse proclaimed, as the line peaked and troughed and peaked again. Alex didn't realise he'd been holding his breath. The door swung open. It was Addison. "What's going on?" she asked.

"She's stable," Alex responded, noticing Addison had pulled her skirt back on. "It was touch and go, but she's okay now." Addison nodded, offered him a small, grateful smile, and he nodded comprehensively. "I was going to crib them together," he said. "Is that…?"

"Absolutely," said Addison. "Go ahead. Umm…I want half hourly reports on both twins then. How's Stephanie?"

"Stable," he responded. "Her stats dropped slightly when Jodie crashed." Addison nodded thoughtfully.

"That can happen," she said. "Sympathetic suffering. It's common in twins, especially identical twins. Anyway yes…half hourly reports. Both twins." She stared aimlessly for a moment, her eyes focusing on the rising and falling of the tiny baby's chest, when the door pushed open again.

"Karev!" it was Miranda Bailey. "You know what the damn Chief is saying about the eighty hour working week. Get your scrawny little ass out of this hospital, NOW." Alex looked startled.

"Umm…Dr Bailey, I have patients," he argued, looking at her as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. She raised her eyebrows.

"Do I look like I care? Dr. Montgomery can have her pick of the remaining four of my disobedient, defiant, stubborn, suck-up Rosemary's babies!" With each word, Alex inadvertently edged one step closer to the door.

"Who will you have?" Dr Bailey addressed Addison, after Alex had left, deflated knowing he'd lost the battle, and probably the war, too. At least Jodie and Stephanie managed to keep his mind of someone else. It was far easier to forget the lily-white skin, the coppery hair when trying to save a preemie's life.

"Umm," replied Addison, trying to take her focus off the way Alex's ass fit so perfectly into his scrub pants, and relaxed so effortlessly as he walked. "Who's available?"

"Grey is in the pit," she said by way of reply. "Page Meredith Grey," she barked to a nearby prac-nurse, whose face radiated panic as she nodded, and hurried to comply with the orders of the woman so famously dubbed 'the Nazi.'

Addison sighed internally. Like all she needed was happy, bubbly, bright and fricken shiny Meredith to add the cherry on top her day. Fricken. It was almost become habit. She hoped she could shake it.

Meredith came.

"Dr Montgomery," she said, twitching nervously as though she felt responsible for the fact that it just didn't flow the way _Montgomery-Shepherd _did. Well, thought Addison fairly, it _was _her fault.

"Dr Grey," she replied. "I'm tired, possibly hormonal, so I'm willing to do you a deal. You do whatever you want as long as I have half-hourly updates on Jodie and Stephanie Henderson's respective conditions."

Meredith looked confused. "Umm and are there any…"

"No, there are no surgeries, I'm sorry my speciality isn't as grappling as Dr Shepherds," she responded, bitterly. Too bitterly, she added to herself as an afterthought. Meredith was a bit like a pathetic puppy. She hovered around, followed her commander, tongue out, and ready to leap to her hind feet at their beck and call. But, Addison thought, assessing the woman in front of her who looked as wrecked and exhausted as she felt, she would make a good doctor. A good surgeon. She knew she had sense and intuition and generally a keen interest to absorb anything that was on offer.

"…But Mrs McKee in 3401 is going in for a C-section at four," she offered. "Her baby has Gastroschisis and I'll be going in on that immediately. If you're interested…" Addison trailed off.

"Seriously? You're removing a silo?" Meredith looked like the child who found the cookie jar. Addison nodded. "I've never seen one before. I've seen an omphalocele but…thankyou, Dr Montgomery," she said sincerely. "Would you like me to prep her?"

Addison nodded, looking at Meredith strangely. This was one of Alex's friends, she thought. Forget Derek's girlfriend, she was Alex's friend. In fact, Alex said he was probably closest to Grey of all the interns. It would make sense to know her. Common ground, and all that. Friends by proxy, she thought, a little too enthusiastically.

"Should we get lunch at the cafeteria together?" asked Addison, biting her lip as the words tumbled out. Meredith looked slightly confused. "It's just…you're my intern. And I don't know you. Or your interests and if I'm teaching you, I should." She was rambling.

"Okay," agreed Meredith and they entered the elevator together, each laughing internally at their lunch partners for that day.

_**A/N:** **Firstly, go Alex for saving Jodie Henderson. I think it's where he really stands out, when he's fighting tooth and nail for a little baby to survive; putting extra will in to make up for what the baby doesn't have. And he did that. That's why he respects Addison so much, because he knows she does that everyday too. And Alex maybe NEVER had anyone giving there all to save, or defend him. It might be human nature to us, but it was never instilled in Alex and how's he supposed to deal with it? Anyway, Bailey makes a guest appearance, being a Nazi and sending Alex home. So lucky Addison gets another intern. Typically, it had to be Meredith. For obvious reasons, Addison and Meredith haven't been all rosy, but after What I Am I realised it is an amazing relationship to explore. And I thought that it probably would be so unconventional it just might work. Plus Addison figures, Grey is Alex's closest intern friend (argue if you want, that's just my opinion) and it wouldn't kill her to establish some kind of link to her other than through Derek. She knows Grey is a brilliant doctor, and what is the point of abusing that knowledge for the sake of revenge or something like it? So she relents, and gives Meredith a chance and next chapter we'll see what happens with that.**_


	4. I Believe in Symmetry

Chapter 4: I believe in symmetry

"So…this is more than a little awkward," said Meredith, pushing her lettuce around the plate with the flimsy plastic fork. "You're very…solemn."

"I'm thinking," said Addison, her prewritten response for almost anything. "Actually…" she said, her head jerking up, looking intently at Meredith playing with her food. "When you had appendicitis," she said, at which Meredith nodded, "we talked. About…stuff."

"Oh?" Meredith inquired, cringing, remembering the Meredith-on-Morphine experience or at least what she'd been told. "Stuff like?" she prompted.

"Derek," said Addison shortly, and Meredith reeled. "You spoke about Derek and you and Derek and me and…yes."

"Whoa-kay," she exhaled. "I'm…sorry. So sorry." Meredith's face crinkled to mimic how she was feeling. "For whatever I said." Addison laughed a bit and then straightened her face again. "So now, you owe me."

Meredith looked alarmed, but when Addison said 'follow me' she complied, taking two steps for each of Addison's graceful strides. They arrived at a supply cupboard, and Meredith didn't quite know what to make of it. "Um…Dr Montgomery? Why are we here?" Addison opened the door, and pushed Meredith in before stepping in her, shutting the door and fumbling for the light switch.

"Can you tell I look like crap?" Addison asked, Meredith not quite sure how to respond.

"You look…you look like…"

"Crap," finished Addison. "I know it. You know when you looked like crap? Because you wanted a guy but you could have him? I'm talking about you and Derek by the way." Addison spoke unintelligibly quickly.

"What? Sorry, I don't follow?" Meredith sounded really thick at that moment, and Addison rolled her eyes. "You mean…I looked crap when you were with Derek and I was sidelined? Uh-huh. I did. Look crap I mean."

"Yes well. There's a guy. And I like him. But I don't know what to do. It would be so hypocritical but there are no boundaries here and if everyone else is doing it, why can't I? And you kinda owe me an undisclosed, no strings conversation don't you think?"

"Okay, but…. the Chief? Addison is that…a little creepy?"

"The Chief? Good Christ, Grey! Like I'd come to _you_ for advice about the Chief. That would be creepy. No I'm talking about…" she muttered the latter half of her sentence.

"Who? I didn't quite catch…" Addison rolled her eyes and muttered 'Karev' under her breath again.

"What?" Meredith really wasn't doing herself any favours at that moment.

"Karev!" Addison proclaimed, swinging around, tossing her face into her hands, realising she'd just voiced the thing which had been consuming her. "Oh, shit."

"Alex?!" exclaimed Meredith. "Seriously?"

"Oh for goodness sake, Grey like you can talk. At least he's not married!" Meredith regained her composure, and sat on the supply cupboard floor, Addison following suit. She put her head in her hands. Meredith did the same, though using her knees to support her head. She shot sidelong glances at Addison, trying to figure out why Addison was disclosing to her. She was pretty, Meredith thought. Classic pretty. Like…Audrey Hepburn. She, Meredith, was conventionally pretty. Surface pretty. She often thought that, though Derek passionately disagreed with her, and usually such an argument ended up in the shower, together.

"You're pretty," Meredith said. "You could have any guy you wanted."

"So why Alex," Addison said, implying what Meredith was thinking.

"No," she argued. "I'm not saying you don't deserve him. You do. But you could have someone different. Anyone."

"I don't want anyone, Grey, as much as it would be easier to do so. I'm his teacher and I just don't have a fricken clue what to do."

"You're picking up his non-words," Meredith agreed. "So you want to know what?" Meredith laughed, just a little chuckle as she realised the possibility of Alex and Addison was not really too far leftfield. She knew the most about him of the interns and she didn't know much.

"I don't know…what will I be getting myself into if it…proceeds?" Addison looked almost apologetically at Meredith, as though sorry for involving her as the third party.

"I don't know what you know, but his childhood was kind of…"

"Sucky," Addison supplied. "I've gotten that gist. Do you know any specifics?"

"I think," said Meredith slowly, "that he'll tell you in his own good time." Addison looked slightly surprised, but nodded.

"Why so surprised?"

"I misjudged you," said Addison truthfully. "I'm glad you didn't tell me. Says a lot about you." They exchanged smiles, and sat quietly in the supply closet together. Meredith got up after about ten minutes. "I should go check on the Henderson twins," she said. "And prep Mrs McKee." Addison nodded thoughtfully.

"Dr Grey?" she asked, just before Meredith opened the door. "Do you have any gauge of Karev's feelings…about…for…"

"Well, if you ask me, he gets pretty damn defensive of you toward Sloan. And Derek," she added as an afterthought. "He thinks he's an asshat."

"He is a bit of an asshat," Addison agreed. "Okay. Well. Thanks." She raised her hand to wave goodbye, and Meredith smiled around the door, leaving it slightly ajar. Addison left shortly after, examining herself in a mirror before leaving feeling so much better than she had half an hour before.

- - -

Meredith was sitting on an abandoned bed in the corridor where she and the other interns liked to study. Cristina was sitting opposite her, flipping through a book on cardiovascular anatomy.

"You know that book off by heart," Meredith pointed out, taking a bite of an oatmeal muffin Izzie had baked that morning.

"So? You know Derek's body by heart and you still read it." Cristina sniggered at her own comment. Meredith attempted to throw the little ball of plastic wrap at her, but failed parlously. "I'm shaking," Cristina said mockingly. "We're surgeons. Shape up or ship out, you know?" Meredith nodded.

"So," she tried to say conversationally. "Do you think Alex is available at the moment? Emotionally available I mean." She cringed at how it came out.

"Why, McDreamy not enough?" Cristina snorted. "Or do you need another sucky childhood story to add to your collection?" Meredith raised her eyebrows. "No," she argued. "For a….friend," she faltered.

"Mer. we're surgeons. We don't HAVE friends." Meredith looked pleadingly at her. "Okay, fine. Honestly? I think he's hooked on the Gynie frontier."

"Seriously?" said Meredith, smiling inwardly. "No."

"Dude, he's smitten. Totally." Meredith's pager beeped.

"911. Gotta go," she said, hopping of the bed.

"So what about your friend?" Meredith looked quizzically at her. "The one who you were asking about Alex for?" Cristina shook her head.

She grinned. "Oh right. Her. I'll just have to tell her he's…smitten, was it?"

_**A/N: Well, there we have it, Meredith and Addison. They talked. I like that Addison enlightened Meredith somewhat to the Meredith-on-Morphine experience – their dialogue should never be kept in the closet, it was just too priceless. Anyway, they do have a lot in common, aside Derek. They both can be painfully awkward and they are both constant gossipmongers in the hospital. Generally, there is just too much potential in this relationship, and it really is the best way for Addison to gauge how Alex feels. Because, lets face it, Meredith is painfully trustworthy, even though she can be slow on the uptake. She's not vindictive and would never deliberately break someone's trust. Especially not her boyfriend's ex-wife. Anyway, let me know your thoughts on the relationship. Too weird? Weird but workable?**_


	5. Whatever Gets You Thru the Night

NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE TO A WILLING HEART

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing save for the desires of Alex and Addison

Chapter five: Whatever gets you thru the night

"What can I get you, Addie?" Addison groaned. Did that fact that Joe, the bartender, knew not only her first name but also nickname say something about her? She waved her hand, indicating she didn't really care what she had as long as it was highly alcoholic. Joe chuckled, and made her a Long Island Iced Tea. She downed it almost immediately and sat back contentedly, gesturing for another.

"Life treating you _that_ well?" Joe asked. As a bartender, his job was also part counsellor, part psychotherapist. "Peanut?" He offered the dish of unsalted peanuts most people avoid like the plague. Addison grinned, grabbing a handful.

"Life," she said sardonically. "Life is grrr…crap!" She laughed at herself. "Tricked ya!" she drawled. "You thought I was gonna say grrrrreat!" Joe laughed in spite of himself.

"Alright Ads. Do you want me to call your cab for ten?"

"Well I have no one to go home with," she stated, drawing her mouth into a pout. "Will you take me home, Joe?" she purred, trying to grasp his hand.

"I have a boyfriend," Joe said, trying to remember how many times he'd told Addison that during her drunken encounters at the Emerald City Bar.

"Joe has a boyfriend and I don't," she mused, chuckling slightly. "Is he good in bed? Is he as good as Derek?"

"I wouldn't know," Joe said, trying to keep a serious face. "I'll let you know sometime."

"Is he as good as Alex?" she continued, twirling the straw around in circles, creating a mini-whirlpool in her potent cocktail.

"Alex? Addison, you didn't!"

"No," she agreed. "I didn't. Nothing. No thing. Not a little thing. Not _un peu."_ Joe shook his head.

"I don't speak German," he countered, knowing Addison had inserted the minute amount of French she knew. The door of the bar swung open and Joe tilted his head. "Addison, you're lucky – your boyfriend is here." She swung around on her chair, violently upsetting the dish of peanuts. It was Alex, sauntering into the bar, looking as unaffected as ever. He walked over to the counter, and strategically sat three stools away from Addison, who was staring, not so subtly at him.

"Dude, she's gone," he stated, as Addison started waving at him. He waved back confused. "Totally gone." Joe nodded in agreement. "She got tomorrow off?" he asked, not expecting Alex to know.

"Course she does," he responded. "Add…Dr Montgomery is a very responsible doctor."

"I can't say she's a responsible drinker," Joe mused, as Addison tried to reach the bottle of gin on the other side of the counter. Alex nodded in agreement. "What can I get you?" Joe asked. "The usual?" He prised the gin from Addison's hand. Alex looked at Addison and then to Joe.

"Umm…maybe I should get her back home," he suggested, and Joe forced his eyebrows down. "She's kinda…wasted," he concluded. "Was that _two _iced teas and three Cachaca shots?"

"Four," Joe corrected. "Yeah okay…Ads? Alex is going to take you home okay?" Addison didn't respond but for a nod, and staggered to her feet, knocking her shot tower over on the way. "Oops" was her only response, and Alex grabbed her arm, passed Joe a twenty and guided her through the tables.

"Don't forget the peanuts!" she called out to Joe and she turned her head to look at Alex. "Karev?"

"Yeah?" he asked, guiding her to his car.

"I dropped the peanuts."

They were standing in the hotel lobby, Addison rifling through her bag in a search for her keys. She pushed the bag over to Alex, proclaiming she couldn't find them. Alex took the bag, and Addison staggered over to a small armchair that sat in a small waiting nook. Small because at a hotel as upscale as the Archfield, one didn't need to 'wait' for long. He held the bag between his fingers for a long time, feeling slightly awkward at the prospect of going through it – it wasn't just that she was his superior, but she was _Addison._ Nonetheless, he gulped (yes – he actually gulped) and stuck his hand in, swished it around and grasped the keys, trying to avoid any personals that may have been lurking in the depths.

"Come on, Ads," he said, holding up the keys triumphantly. "Lets get you upstairs." 

They did get upstairs, despite Addison accidentally pressing all the buttons in the elevator and therefore an elevator ride that lasted 10 minutes. Alex finally swiped her door open, and escorted Addison into the room, where she flopped effortlessly on her bed.

He grabbed a bottle of water out the mini bar, and offered it to Addison, enticing her the way he would a toddler with candy. She gulped it needily, the large quantity of alcohol over the short period of time making her slightly dehydrated. ¾ of a bottle later and Addison had come more to her senses. Whether it was the water or Alex gently stroking her arm that brought her there, Addison could only guess.

"You need to sleep," he stated. "You're lucky you're off duty tomorrow, eh?" she smiled feebly at him. "You're going to have a killer hangover as well. Come on." 

"My head's already hurting," she admitted, and Alex smiled. "Okay. Here we go." He pulled her feet out of the heels that she had deftly forced them back into that evening, and looked around for something that could resemble pyjamas. He pulled a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt from a chair by the bed.

"Do you sleep in these?" she nodded. He offered them to her and buried his head beneath a pillow. "I'm not looking," he proclaimed, and lay sightless, listening to the muffled sounds of Addison changing, her dress landing carelessly on the ground and then a hoarse "Coast's clear." He emerged from the pillow that had smelt overwhelmingly of Addison's hair – the fruity shampoo she evidently washed those red locks in.

"Goodnight, Addison," he smiled, helping her climb into bed (although she was capable of doing it herself) and pulling the covers up to her chin. He bent down and kissed her forehead. "See you soon."

"Alex?" she called to his retreating back, Alex swinging around surprised by the use of his first name.

"Mmm?" he murmured, laughing inwardly at just how cute her sleepy smile was.

"Don't go," she said. "Sleep here." Alex looked somewhat taken aback, but nodded in agreement, eyeing the couch that folded out.

"It's broken," she supplied. "The spring is busted. Just sleep here." She patted her bed. "Sleep. Nothing funny."

"It's what friends do," Alex reasoned, and Addison nodded in agreement. "It is what friends do," she said.

Alex shrugged his coat off, and left it with his shoes in a pile on the floor. He gingerly pulled back the bedspread and sheets on his side of the bed, not wanting to invade too much of Addison's space. "Is this okay? Am I taking up too much room?" he asked, turning his self over so his back was facing the wall. Addison didn't respond. Alex strained his ears. The room was quiet and his own breathing sounded like drums beating on either side of his head. "Ads?" he whispered. "Addie?"

There was no answer, and Alex tentatively moved his head closer to Addison's. He could smell alcohol as she breathed, long, deep breaths that said nothing but that she was asleep. "Okay," he whispered, to Addison more than to himself. "Okay." He leaned over, kissed into the depth of Addison's hair, and released his tension, sinking him further into the mattress, and inadvertently dipping Addison further down, so by the time Alex finally fell asleep, their bodies were pieced together like a jigsaw puzzle.

A/N: This is so my favourite chapter thus far! I love drunken Addison, and I love caring Alex and together it's a force to be reckoned with. Don't really have much to say, except how sweet is Alex? Also, Joe featured, and an episode (or chapter) with Joe is always better than one without! Please review!


	6. Standing in the Way of Control

Chapter six: Standing in the Way of Control

"Shit," was all she could mutter, as she awoke swimming in her own hair, which spilled over the pillow and into her face. Her eyes were defiantly squinched shut because the blinds hadn't been drawn and sunshine uncharacteristic of Seattle was pouring in through the windows. Alex stirred beside her, his arm draped across her stomach, entirely innocently though to an outsider it might look worse. She drew her free hand up to her head that was throbbing – a physical reminder of too many shots of Cachaca, and then shut her eyes again as her hangover reminded her she had the day off. Despite the sun, she could see there was a blustering wind sweeping across Seattle, and a distant howling noise accompanied the loose leaves that were being swept off the pavement and into the troposphere, swirling around like an abstractionists' paintbrush. She gently rolled herself on her back, inadvertently disturbing Alex, who sleepily withdrew his arm and rolled onto his other side. She silently scolded herself, as the warmth generated by his arm was removed as well.

She got up, pleased to notice she was wearing her sweatpants and a shirt – a sign they hadn't had a drunken escapade, and pulled a bottle of orange juice from the mini-bar, initially gagging at the morning breath come juice flavour, and allowing her tastebuds to acquire the taste. Then she ventured into the bathroom, deciding to take a shower whilst Alex slept.

Addison loved the shower. She loved leaning with her arms on the wall, allowing the defiantly tough beads of water to batter her back until it felt bruised. The tingling sensation high water pressure emitted was one of Addison's greatest thrills. She liked to think in the shower, about "meaning of life" things and about "flowers in the field" kind of things – the meaningful, the trivial – they were the same thing in the shower - they were each equally smothered by the water. Then there was the bathrobe. And the steamy mirror and the sticky seashell soaps. The smell of clean Addison that smelt more like steam than soap, the way she preferred it. Eau naturale. Even a hotel bathroom had the potential to feel like home. She was lost in thought, patting her hair dry, using her index finger to scrawl purposeless pictures in the steam. She had just stood back to admire her handiwork when she heard a knock at the door.

"Ads?" it was Alex, not that she was surprised. "You in there?" She opened the door, and Alex greeted her with a smile. "Mega-hangover?" he queried.

"You have no idea," she groaned. "We didn't, did we?"

"Nope," he said reassuringly. "Friends don't do that do they?" She raised one eyebrow slightly, recalling times when her 'friend' Mark had taken advantage of her drunken state.

"Day off?" she asked, and Alex nodded. "Umm…can I…errr…" he waved generally in the direction of the toilet. Addison realised his hint, and jumped out the bathroom, embarrassed.

"Absolutely," she said, shutting the door behind him and pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater and emerging onto the balcony. The wind was unrelenting, but Addison loved it. She loved it when nature took control. She shut her eyes and felt it prick her cheeks, wash over her pitilessly.

"So what are you going to do today?" Alex queried, stepping out onto the balcony. "Sheesh, it's freezing," he added. "You like the cold?"

"I used to hate it," she confessed. "Well…I used to hate Seattle cold," she amended. "New York cold was good. But so is Seattle now. Eventually." She watched as Alex breathed into his hands, and rubbed them together, the way people did in movies.

"Iowa's not exactly warm though is it?" she queried, and he nodded in agreement.

"Not exactly," he echoed. "A bit like here. Here's nicer though," he said thoughtfully. He watched as she leant forward, her arms resting on the balcony railings, her chin cupped in her hands. For some strange reason, he pictured her with a beret, and in his mind it looked so adorable, he laughed.

"You're beautiful, you know that right?" he said, when she turned around, feeling his intent stares. She looked at him curiously for a moment. She considered quipping back with 'you're not too bad yourself' or something equally as moment-ruining, but decided against it. If anyone else – even Derek – had said that, she would have seen it through her sceptical glasses – hell, if it were Alex a month ago, likewise, but now it was different. He said it the way a mother whispered her love to a baby. As if it was the most obvious thing, it didn't need to be voiced, but did it anyway.

"Thankyou," she whispered, so quietly she doubted he had heard her. Alex stated he was off. Going home to do stuff, he said. Addison was surprised when her heart sank slightly at the prospect of his leaving her.

"Keep drinking water," he said, gesturing to two half-empty bottles on Addison's bedside. "And if you ever need anything – even if it's just pizza, you know where to find me." He scrawled his address on the Archfield stationery, which sat in the mahogany desk. "If I'm not home, I usually leave a key in the barbeque on the back balcony." Without giving her time to argue, protest or accept, Alex left, shutting the door gently, trying to defy the smile that was creeping up his face.

Addison stared at the closed door for a good three minutes, and lowered herself onto the bed. She buried her head into the pillow Alex had slept on that night, which now smelt like him. It wasn't a particularly strong smell – just a general 'man' smell, but it was undoubtedly an Alex smell. She rolled onto her back, her head banging with hang-over and something else, wondering just how she'd managed to fall in love with the intern she'd despised just over a month ago.

----

Meanwhile, Alex had let himself into his ground floor apartment, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. It was an ordinary looking bachelor pad – clean but not immaculate, fairly minimalist. There were framed photos and pictures of wrestlers – including himself, back in the hey-day.

"Phoenix," he called, as he entered the door, intently scanning the floor and surrounding areas. His cat, a grey British shorthair bounded from the direction of the kitchen and rubbed his back along his legs. Alex bent down and picked him up. People didn't know he had a cat. He wasn't seen as an affectionate person, rather a ruthless hard-ass. In all fairness, he didn't defer away from that image – but he really was nothing but a softie.

He'd grown up with negligent parents, according to his teen counsellor. He'd learnt from an early age how to take care of himself, physically and emotionally. Inadvertently, a wall had been built. He decided he wanted to be a surgeon when he realised that Plastics would help other people met their physical and emotional needs. He scorned OBGYN because he saw too much love and too much hope. Ironically, it was his teacher, Dr Addison Montgomery who taught him how to concentrate love and hope on his patients, emotion that would otherwise have been left behind. She was damaged, he knew. She'd loved and hoped until she couldn't concentrate it on her life anymore, for fear of being damaged more. Derek and Mark had simultaneously robbed her of these basic emotional states. Alex clenched his jaw. She needed someone who could restore them. Who could make her realise she was perfect, regardless of anything.

He emptied a small tin of cat food into Phoenix's bowl and crashed on his couch, flicking the sport channel on, as though habit, but his tiredness wouldn't relent, and instead he fell asleep, Addison permeating his subconscious thoughts.

----

"Okay," Bailey called down the corridor. "Grey you're with Burke, Karev – Dr Montgomery as usual, O'Malley with…O'Malley, Yang you're in the pit. Get to it!"

Alex made his way up to Addison's floor. He stepped out the elevator, a slight spring in his step, when he heard some muffled voices in Addison's office. One of them he immediately recognised as Addison's (how could he _not_ recognise it), the other he couldn't quite place, concurring it sounding like Mark Sloan.

"Get out!" he heard Addison exclaim loudly. "For fuck sake, just get out, Mark." It was followed by the door harshly opening and then slamming shut, and Mark strode down the hallway, shooting Alex a venomous glare. Addison didn't emerge from her office, and so Alex ventured to the door and knocked on it apprehensively. There was no response, so he turned the handle and let himself in. Addison looked up. Noting it was Alex, she let herself crumple back into tears.

"Hey," he said soothingly, sitting beside her on the couch. "Hey, what's wrong?" She shook her head, but Alex put his arm around her protectively, drawing her close to him. She buried her head in his chest that was warm and comforting.

"He's an asshat, Ads," Alex whispered into her hair, kissing her forehead lightly. "You know that. What did he say?"

"Nothing specific," she sobbed. "Just…he's…"

"An asshat," Alex supplied.

"He makes me feel like a second class citizen. They all do. I'm just an easy target. I used to be strong, Karev. They've taken any strength I used to have." She continued to let the tears flow freely.

"You're an amazing woman," Alex said. He took her head in his hand and manipulated it so she had no choice but to look him in the eyes. "You're beautiful, and you're strong, and everyday you save a baby's life. If they can't realise that and look past the past then really, why bother?"

Addison looked up at Alex, her eye makeup smeared due to her tears.

"How do you do that?" she asked him, reaching her hand up to touch his cheek. He did the same, rubbing his thumb gently over the surface of her cheek and her chin, and then he brought her face forward to his so there was nothing between them save half a centimetre of nervous breath.

There lips met, softly, a kiss filled with anticipation and nervousness. As Addison leant forward for more, Alex's confidence surged and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding gently across her lips and finding its way to unite with hers in the depth. She tasted salty, like tears, and she tasted like vanilla latte. He savoured the taste, his eyes shut whilst his fingers ran through her hair, taking in as much of her as he possibly could. She moaned slightly at his gentle, caring touch, and delved deeper, determined not to miss any aspect of this bliss. It might have been a dream, it was so perfect. His hands cradled her head lovingly, and she kept her eyes shut as she felt him touch her face, her hair, her neck as though he really, really needed too.

When they pulled apart, she went to say something, but Alex covered her mouth with his hand, kissed her forward and drew her into a hug so tight, so protective she felt the tears well up in her eyes again.


	7. End of the World Party

Chapter seven: End of the World Party 

It had been a week. An excruciating week of sidling down hallways, taking the stairs – she'd even chucked a sickie, something nothing short of a miracle for Addison. Juvenile? Maybe. She figured she probably had to stop avoiding Karev just because they'd kissed. Especially because she liked it. Because she wanted to do it again.

"Dr Montgomery? Addison." The voice was distinct. It was Miranda.

"Miranda," Addison said, spinning round and forcing an overly exaggerated smile. "How are you? How's William? And Tucker?"

"I don't _do_ small talk," she interrupted. "I don't _do_ having my interns fawning around me because _you_ all of a sudden are incapable of teaching without going weak at the knees. I don't _do_ being asked why Karev can't go back to OB. It ruins my day because you are emotionally incapable." Addison gasped.

"Y'understand?" Bailey said, jamming her thumb on the elevator button. Addison nodded the way a child did when her mother caught her stealing cookies. "So I can tell Karev he's on your service today."

Addison nodded although it wasn't phrased to be a question, and sighed, leaning against the nurses' station clutching a chart tightly.

"Um…Dr Montgomery?" Addison startled, looking at the person who addressed her. It was Izzie.

"Umm…hi. I'm…_we're –_ me and Meredith, we're having a party. Yay. You're invited." Izzie looked ready to runaway. Addison looked slightly confused, and raised her brow, asking Izzie for an explanation.

"Uh, well it's for George and Callie, see," Izzie began. "Like a wedding party. And you're Callie's best friend so you're pretty much invited. Okay?" Izzie began to sidle away, but Addison grabbed her arm.

"I'm invited?"

"The whole hospital's invited," amended Izzie. "It'll be crowded. I doubt you'll even see Meredith and Mc…uh, Derek." She smiled lopsidedly. "So you'll come? For…Callie?"

"Okay," agreed Addison. "I'll come…for Callie." Izzie gave her the details.

"No Meredith and Derek," she reminded one last time. Addison resumed her position leaning against the nurses' station, laughing inwardly at herself. A month ago? Yes, she would have thought immediately of Derek and Meredith, together. A week ago, maybe. But now? They didn't even cross her mind. Who she most wanted to avoid was Alex and whilst she felt that had finally cut any remaining emotional ties save friendship with Derek, it had also opened an entirely new can of worms.

-----

"Nice to see you, Karev," she said as casually as she could when Alex joined her on floor three the next morning. Alex raised his eyebrows.

"You've been avoiding me," he stated. "I think we probably need to…"

"Ebonie McGuigan," Addison interrupted, thrusting a chart into Alex's arms. "Delivered by emergency C-section yesterday morning. Has necrotizing enterocolitis. What is it?"

"Umm N.E.C…an inflammatory disease of the intestines, usually diagnosed in preemies," Alex started, "usually surgical, often immediate and more invasive laparoscopy and bowel resection. In less severe cases, peritoneal drainage of the intestine."

"Good. Go tell Mr and Mrs McGuigan, and then scrub in. We've got to go in now if Ebonie is going to have a chance." Addison turned and walked away, breathing harshly. _Good,_ she thought_ you haven't broken the mentor-pupil boundary. Apart from the kiss. You're doing well._

She walked into the NICU, wanting to see Ebonie before she went under the proverbial knife. She was tiny, born at 26 weeks, and even though Addison had operated countless times on such small newborns, Ebonie looked particularly helpless. She had downy, reddish coloured wisps of hair, and Addison's hand, from the end of the wrist to the top of her slender middle finger was the length of the baby. She watched Connie McGuigan take a photo of Ebonie lying snuggly in Liam McGuigan's hand. Even though it was against protocol, Addison couldn't bring herself to interrupt the photograph, knowing that with the extent of Ebonie's NEC, it could well be her last photo.

Addison put her finger on the baby's hand, feeling the reflex to tighten her grip come into play. "You'll get through," she whispered so only she could hear it, not wanting to give the baby false hope, if babies even could have _false hope._ They've come this far, she figured. They don't question how they get here, and they know if fall, their parents will catch them. A pediatric nurse entered the NICU.

"I'm prepping Ebonie McGuigan for surgery," she said to Addison, who nodded her consent and stepped away from the humidicrib that Ebonie was nestled in, a small speck compared to her stark white surroundings.

-----

She was feeling nervous, which rarely happened when she stepped into the O.R. Usually, any thoughts save surgery escaped her. She liked it. She internalised everything outside the O.R. If nothing else, it was a place where she could concentrate every fibre of her being on saving a life.

She was waiting, Ebonie anaesthetised, watching through the window at Alex scrubbing in. This was an advanced procedure, on a scale 50 times smaller than usual. He knew what necrotizing enterocolitis was. He'd definitely been studying. A voice in her head told her to let him at least start the procedure. It was a teaching hospital after all. Another voice was telling her that therefore, Ebonie was a guinea pig. 24 hours of life was lying in front of her, trusting the best would fix her.

He burst through the doors; drying his arms on the towel the nurse offered him, and allowing her to slide the gloves onto his hands. He looked at Addison in anticipation.

Alex was the next best, she thought. He would be the best when she wasn't.

"You doing the honours, Karev? I'll talk you through it." He looked shocked.

"I've never…I've never even seen a bowel resection," he stuttered.

"I'll talk you through it," she said, glad that her mask allowed her to look less nervous than she felt. Alex nodded, breathed deeply as if that was how he regained his confidence.

"Scalpel."

- - -

"It's not your fault," Addison offered in the lift. Alex didn't respond. "You didn't do anything wrong Alex, she was too little. Sometimes they just don't make it."

"And that makes me feel so much better," Alex said, leaning into the wall, trying to defy the tears welling at the back of his stubborn eyes. Addison watched him, hunched over, every inch of his confidence reduced to the size of a preemie. It happened. He really hadn't made the smallest of mistakes. Ebonie had died after he'd closed her with stitches rivalling the plastic surgeon, Sloan himself.

She took a leaf out of Bailey's book, and pulled the emergency stop button, leaning casually against the wall until Alex uttered an almost inaudible 'I'm fine.'

They resumed their journey down to the NICU where Alex knew Connie and Liam McGuigan would be waiting anxiously for news on their tiny baby girl.

"I'll talk to the parents," Addison said, but Alex shook his head vigorously.

"No you won't," he said. "I will." Addison nodded, relenting, knowing Alex's pride was difficult to overcome.

"Okay," she agreed, nodding. "I'll be in here." He watched through a window as Alex broke the news to the McGuigan. She watched as Connie collapsed into Liam's arms. He stroked her hair, tears in his own eyes, Connie heaving huge sobs. Liam extended his hand that Alex shook, acknowledging it to be a dismissal of understanding. He left.

- - -

The music was vibrating the whole street it seemed, and as Addison drove to the House of Grey, she began to feel slightly anxious. _You idiot,_ she thought to herself (though to be fair, she thought that a lot). _You actually accepted the overzealous Barbie's invitation? "For…Callie." Callie had George. Yes, _she concurred. She was an idiot. Nonetheless, she stepped out her car, examined her appearance (albeit distorted) in the shiny silver panels, concluding she looked good. She was wearing jeans (a rare occurrence for her), a silky forest green top with a long silver necklace and stilettos as tall as the Space Needle (or close too.)

The front door was open and Addison ventured in, trying to ignore thoughts of 'how immature, to be throwing a _rager_ at twenty-eight' instead making a beeline for Miranda who was pouring herself a vodka and tonic at the drinks table.

"Can I have one?" she asked over the noise, nodding her head in indication of the drink. "Strong."

Miranda poured compliantly, handed the drink to Addison and then shook her head disbelievingly.

"Would you believe they've done this before?"

"High school with scalpels," Addison said, using her friend's explanatory phrase. "Let them have there fun before they get old and wrinkled like us."

"Old and wrinkled?" Bailey asked with raised eyebrows. "_Old _and _wrinkled? _Is that what you think?" she thrust her drink into Addison's hand and ventured into the living room where several alcohol-impaired doctors were dancing to 'Sexy Back.' Addison laughed as Miranda joined the fray, looking at her with raised eyebrows before she disappeared into the sea of medical professionals.

Addison sighed, now unable to hide how outcast she felt. She scanned the room, unable to see anyone she really knew. She decided to wait by the drinks table, figuring it was the honey for the many bees.

"You're looking a little…loner-ish," came a voice from behind. Although it was muffled, Addison could pick it from a mile off.

"Derek," she said, smiling with relief at seeing someone she knew. "How…"

"Derek!" it was Meredith. "Oh, hey Addison." Addison nodded in acknowledgement.

"What do you need?" asked Derek. Addison noticed how intently he looked at Meredith, as if he would stop the world spinning if she asked.

"Never mind, Addison, want to help me put the snacks on a tray?" Addison thought no proposition had ever sounded so appealing.

"Oh," Derek said, trying to look crestfallen. "Well…I'll just go…dance with a hot doctor," he said jokingly. Addison and Meredith both laughed knowing he'd rather walk across hot coals than dance.

"You do that," Meredith said, grabbing Addison's arm and leading her to the kitchen. "I'm gonna kill Izzie," she said through gritted teeth. "My guess is Callie and George don't even know a quarter of these people."

Addison laughed. "Where are all Bailey's interns?" she queried, arranging mini pizzas on a serving dish.

"Playing poker in the den," said Meredith. "Let's leave these by the drinks and go. I think the people we know are all down there." Addison nodded in acquiesce, put the pizzas down and took her shoes off, following Meredith to the den.

- - -

Although it was a big den, it was dwarfed by the sheer amount of people taking refuge there. The small wooden coffee table had accumulated a centre piece of a pile of money, and Cristina, Mark, Derek, George and Alex were staring intently at the cards before them. Mark was bare backed, Alex wearing a wife beater and boxer shorts. Cristina was fully clothed, and looking triumphant.

"Since when has it been strip poker?" asked Meredith, rolling her eyes and grabbing the tequila off the table and having a swig. She offered it to Addison who, after contemplating for a minute, accepted.

"Addie!" said Mark loudly. "Come and play!" Addison snorted in response.

"a) I'm not wearing much underneath this outfit and b) I'm nowhere near as good a player as Dr Yang here, so c) No."

"Don't spoil the fun!" said Mark, grinning lopsidedly. "C'mon, Addie!" She rolled her eyes.

"How about we play it in duos?" suggested Callie, seating herself beside George. "More garments to lose." Mark nodded in agreement, and Burke and Meredith sat beside Cristina and Derek respectively. Izzie looked unsure where to go. Mark was impossible. Alex, with their mounting sexual tension even more so.

"C'mon over, Blondie," Mark said. Izzie sat beside him. "I'm only with because there's no one else," she hissed. "That's not a compliment."

Addison and Alex exchanged glances, and she levered herself down. "Do we include all previous strips?" asked Alex.

"Clean slate," concurred Derek. "That's fair. And…stripping goes in turns, okay?"

"Well thank goodness everyone's seen each other naked," said Mark, receiving deathly glares from everyone.

"Shut up Mark," said Addison, voicing everyone's thoughts. "Okay," she said. "I'll deal."

- - -

Alex and Addison proved to be quite a pair, losing only a necklace and a shoe between them. Mark was sitting bare backed again, Izzie in a sheer camisole, frowning perpetually at Mark who was examining her unsubtly.

"Okay," said Meredith, throwing her cards down. "I'm so done. What's next?"

"Spin the bottle!" suggested George, fumbling to put his shirt back on, holding the now empty tequila bottle as one would a trophy. Everyone nodded in agreement, pushing the coffee table out the way and arranging themselves in a circle.

"George can go first," suggested Meredith, her giggling a side effect of ½ a bottle of tequila. "It's his party."

Everyone roared, Cristina's 'Bambi's getting tuned!' the crescendo of the uproar. He spun the bottle, and it stopped in front of Cristina.

"That's way more on Izzie!" she protested, as everyone laughed at the irony of the situation. George leant over Burke, who separated them and pecked Cristina briefly on the lips. She wiped it with her sleeve, making vomit noises, and bracing herself over the bottle, praying it didn't land on Bambi.

"Seriously?" she exclaimed, looking at the result in disgust. "Seriously? McDreamy?" Meredith emitted a high-pitched squeal of excitement as Cristina walked over to McDreamy.

"You okay?" Derek asked Meredith, who waved her hand dismissively.

"That makes me vomit more," Cristina announced. "The McDreaminess." She mock shuddered, pecked him on the lips and proclaimed, "I don't know what you find in him, Mer."

Derek spun the bottle, relieved when it landed on Meredith. Without hesitation he kissed Meredith hard, the two ending up on the floor, separating only when Mark's shoe hit Derek in the nape of his neck. They parted reluctantly, and faced the sea of disbelief in front of them.

"I think they'd actually have had sex if we'd kept quiet," said Izzie in disgust. "Meredith please, spin."

"You okay with it?" Meredith asked apologetically. Addison shrugged and the observers sniggered as Meredith kissed her briefly, passing the bottle to Addison who spun it and watched as it stopped wobbly on Alex.

"We're about to have all five interns hooking up with an attending," exclaimed Mark victoriously as Alex kissed Addison.

It was brief, definitely nothing to fuss over, but it was also urgent, and although no words were exchanged Addison knew Alex was trying to tell her _how right_ this was and she knew he was right when they pulled apart and she was thinking, _more, more._


End file.
